


Let Me Slip Into Something More Comfortable

by rhysiana



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Actually an AU mash-up with Netflix/Fuji TV's show Atelier but there are no existing tags for that, Gen, Kent Parson: Fashion Crusader, Lingerie, The benefits of tailoring for athletic physiques
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 02:03:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7295029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhysiana/pseuds/rhysiana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kent is introduced to the benefits of personal tailoring for even his most intimate of garments by his friend the Vegas showgirl.</p><p>(ETA: This is as SFW as a story ultimately about underwear can be.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Slip Into Something More Comfortable

**Author's Note:**

  * For [weird_situation](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weird_situation/gifts).



> For weird_situation, who wanted Kent to wear lingerie. He seemed pretty happy about it, honestly.
> 
> Beta by M, who thought this was ridiculous but agreed to read it anyway, and @storiesfromtheden, who is a delight.

Kent sat with his legs thrown over the arm of the chair, twirling his snapback around on one finger as he watched Carmen stretching at the barre mounted to the wall of her living room. He loved Carmen’s apartment, cluttered as it was with all the bright and sparkly detritus of various showgirl costume pieces that had made their way home with her over the years.

“…and then, I shit you not, Irina just whipped her shoe straight at his head,” she said as she unfolded her leg straight up into the air above her head. “He dodged in time, but I still say she’s lucky she didn’t get fired.”

“Eh, that guy’s always been a dick. He deserved it.”

“He did, but he’s still the stage manager. She’s gonna push it too far one day.”

Kent reached out and picked up a sequined hair comb with a feather attached to it, idly pulling the feather through his fingers over and over. Carmen smiled. “You can take that, you know. I don’t even remember what show it was from. I think Dot’s kids left it out when they were going through my dress-up box a few days ago.”

Kent started and looked down at his hands. “Oh! Thanks.”

“You’re just like your cat, you know.”

“Yeah, well, Kit has excellent taste.” He thought about putting the comb back in the box of discarded props Carmen kept for her friends' kids, but then gave a mental _fuck it_ shrug. Carmen certainly knew he fiddled with stuff by now.

She finally put her leg back down and bent down to press her face against her knees before starting a slow roll back up to standing, posture impeccable for a few seconds. Then she relaxed and grinned at him. “What are you doing this afternoon?”

“Nothing. We just had morning practice today. Why? I don’t trust this look.” He waved his hand vaguely at her.

“I have to go for a bra fitting this afternoon. You should come. You’ll get a kick out of it, I swear.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously! You’ll love the shop. There are _sparklies_.” She smirked at him. “Plus, you won’t be bored.”

“You cheat.”

“I just know you.”

***

The shop was fairly small, set down a side street Kent wasn’t sure he’d ever realized was there. The storefront was simultaneously upscale and modest, which was almost unheard of in Vegas. “How did you even find this place?” Kent asked.

“Trade secret,” Carmen replied as she opened the door. A tiny bell tinkled discreetly above their heads.

Kent looked around with interest. It was nothing like he expected. The room just inside the door appeared to be a showroom, with torso mannequins set up on two sets of glass counters, one on each side of the room. Each mannequin displayed a different set of underwear, showing a range of styles and fabrics. Kent had honestly never given women’s underwear a huge amount of thought before, but he could definitely tell the person in charge of this display did. As he moved closer to the mannequins on one side, he could see there were drawers of bras set up under the glass tops of the counters, showing off an impressive array of colors and patterns.

“The display is different every time I come,” Carmen said, looking over his shoulder. “Isn’t it great?”

“I’m glad you like it,” a lightly accented voice said from the far end of the room. Kent looked up to see an Asian woman coming through a door that appeared to lead to a workroom. She smiled in greeting.

“Mayu! So good to see you again!” Carmen said.

“I’m always happy to see you, Carmen. Are you ready for your fitting? Or did you need something else as well?” Mayu inquired politely, gently but pointedly not asking about Kent.

“Just the fitting! This is my friend Kent, I just thought he would find this an interesting experience. He’s always fascinated by my costumes.”

“I just… really like fabric? And color?” Kent wasn’t sure why he felt so off-balance here, but Carmen certainly wasn't saying anything that wasn’t true. He figured he’d roll with it.

Mayu’s face brightened. “Fabric! Fabric is my passion! Come, come, in here.” She ushered them into the spacious fitting room to the side of the showroom. A box sat on the table. Mayu gestured for them to sit on the small sofa and pulled up a wire-framed chair so she could remove the lid and present the contents.

“I make a box like this for each project. You can see the prototype,” she pointed to the bra in the center of the box, “and also all the possible fabrics I thought would be good when we talked about the project initially.” Now she indicated a neatly arranged fan of fabric swatches. “Plus all the finishing touches.” And here were Kent’s promised sparklies, rhinestones and charms and lace overlays.

“Wow,” he breathed.

Carmen sat back with a satisfied smile on her face. “See? I told you it would be fun.”

“I just thought we’d be going to Victoria’s Secret or something.”

Mayu made a moue of distaste, but tried to hide it. Carmen laughed. “I haven’t worn Victoria’s Secret _anything_ since high school. I have much higher standards now.” Mayu looked mollified.

“What’s the difference?” Kent asked curiously.

“Look, your underwear is the thing closest to your skin, right? The thing you’re really wearing the most all day? It should be the thing that fits the best.”

Mayu nodded.

“But this,” Kent indicated the display box, “is clearly about more than just fitting better.”

“Mayu can explain it better than I can. She has a whole philosophy.”

Mayu smiled modestly. “When I started in this business, all I cared about was the fabric. Proper fit and appropriate material choice are still the two key factors at the heart of what I do. But my mentor, she had the heart of an artist. She was not satisfied to let her clients leave with something that did not… enhance their own feeling of beauty. She was very firm that every woman should feel she was a work of art. That beautiful underwear be a personal gift to herself, a foundation of affirmation for herself alone. It is hard for me to explain. To be honest, I don’t think I ever fully understood it. Plus, she explained everything in Japanese, and I think differently in English.”

“No, it makes sense,” said Kent. “It’s like wearing your lucky socks for a game or something.”

Mayu looked quizzical. “Kent’s a hockey player,” Carmen said.

“Ah. I do not know hockey, but I have heard baseball players say a similar thing.”

“Yeah, we’re both superstitious groups of guys.” Kent sat back into the cushions of the couch and looked thoughtful.

Mayu, seeing this, stood and gestured toward the measuring tape hanging around her neck. “Shall we begin?” she asked Carmen.

“Sure.”

Kent started to get up, but Carmen waved him back into his seat. “You’re fine. I have no modesty anymore.”

So Kent watched the measuring process with interest. He listened to the comments Mayu made and the answers Carmen gave to her questions about the fit of her last purchase, and it made him think.

When they were done and Carmen was getting dressed again, he leaned forward. “Could you make something for me?”

“I can make something for anyone. What kind of thing would you like?”

“It’s just… playing serious hockey kind of changes your anatomy, you know? And it makes buying clothes difficult, which I’ve been dealing with by getting basically everything tailored, but it never occurred to me that I could get better underwear. I don’t even know what that would feel like.”

Carmen clapped her hands. “Yes! Oh, this is great.”

Mayu smiled. “May I measure you?”

“Uh, sure. What do you need me to do?”

“Just remove your trousers and stand here.” She indicated the spot in the center of the room where Carmen had been.

Kent didn’t have much modesty anymore either after so many years of giving press interviews in the dressing room, so he complied willingly. Mayu took measurements of his waist, hips and rear, and his thighs at several different points. “For men’s underwear, you have many different length possibilities,” she explained. She noted everything down on a rough sketch of his body with lines indicating where each measurement had been taken.

Once he was dressed and seated again, she took up her notebook and asked, “Now, will these be for a special occasion or everyday wear?”

Kent pursed his mouth for a few seconds, then grinned. “My birthday.”

Carmen rolled her eyes.

“And when is that?”

“Fourth of July.”

“Ah.”

“If I can’t treat myself special on my birthday, when can I?”

“Oh, I don’t know, how about when you win the Stanley Cup?” Carmen asked.

“Good point.” Kent tapped his knee contemplatively. “Hey, can you get lace with card suit shapes on it? Like, a spade?”

Mayu looked mildly affronted. “This is Las Vegas. I can get _anything_ with a spade on it.”

“Excellent. So, like, two pairs. One very patriotic, and one in black lace with spades? Because if I’m gonna do it, I might as well have fun.”

“Of course.”

“But I leave the style up to you. I don’t know enough to even know what to ask for.”

Mayu inclined her head graciously. “I have some ideas.”

***

A month later, Kent and Carmen returned for their finished orders. (“Art takes time, Kent.”) As soon as Kent tried his on, it was like a revelation.

“I didn’t realize underwear could be this comfortable…”

“Too much reliance on stretch in modern fabrics,” Mayu said dismissively. “Just because a fabric _can_ stretch, it doesn’t make up for poor cut and fit. All bodies are different.”

“You’re telling me,” Kent murmured, thinking darkly of entirely too many shopping trips in which he had tried to find jeans that would fit. He had a reputation now for being utterly vain and obsessed with designer clothes, but every time he handed over the money for something actually designed to fit him, he did it gladly.

Carmen poked her head in from the showroom and let out a whistle. “Oh damn! Very nice.” Kent rolled his eyes at her, but struck a pose. It was true, after all; he knew he looked good.

Mayu smiled and excused herself to the office so Kent could change.

“What do you think?” Carmen asked as she flopped on the couch.

“You were right.”

Carmen stretched, looking a great deal like Kit Purrson. “Of course I was.”

“Mm-hmm. I can’t wait until the Fourth now. I have plans…”

“Oh?”

“Yup. And you can help.”

“Ooooh!”

“How are you with a camera?”

***

[image: Kent Parson on his balcony, sparkler in hand, wearing nothing but a pair of well-fitted boy shorts patterned to look like the American flag.]

caption: Happy birthday to me! Treated myself to some fantastic new underwear from MAYU.

***

[image: Kent Parson lying across a white comforter, looking coyly back over his shoulder at the camera, wearing a pair of black lace cheekies patterned with spades.]

caption: Celebrating the season opener in style! Gotta show that hockey ass to advantage. (Underwear by MAYU.)

***

[image: Kent Parson lounging on his couch in a pair of blue-green briefs and a short floral silk robe, petting Kit Purrson, who sits on his chest as he looks out the window, which is running with rain.]

caption: Actual rainstorm today, a rare event in Vegas. Kit and I decided to enjoy it in comfort. (Underwear and robe by MAYU.)

***

 _GQ Magazine_ November 2017

Excerpt from the article “Kent Parson: Man on a Mission”

**GQ: So, Kent, you’ve been causing quite a stir on Instagram lately.**

**Kent Parson:** I guess you could say that.

**Can you tell us a little bit more about that? You are, after all, kind of known for your social media game. Is it a publicity stunt, or are you just doing it for fun?**

[with his usual trademark smile] Who says it has to be one or the other?

[He then leans forward with a far more serious look than I’ve ever seen on his face in an interview setting.] Really, though, it _is_ both: publicity and fun. But it’s specifically publicity for something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. I’m trying to bring more attention to the idea that men’s fashion, down to and including underwear, is something that everyone should be able to partake in. Because fashion is about more than vanity, it’s about how we treat ourselves.

**Certainly you’ve been called vain often enough.**

I know. And it doesn’t bother me. I mean, it’s not like I object to being called good-looking, and if it’s vanity to accept compliments when I think they’re true, I’ll own it. But let me tell you something about being a professional athlete: it does weird sh*t to your body. Sure, my ESPN Body Issue shoot was epic. But you know what was easy about that shoot? I was naked. I didn’t really think about it at the time, but seriously, I dread doing photo shoots if the clothes are being provided. I hate going shopping. Hockey has given me a body people like to look at, but the truth is, you can’t buy jeans off the shelf that fit over a hockey ass. And that doesn’t really make you feel great.

**But doesn’t everyone have that experience?**

Probably. And how does it make you feel?

**…Not great.**

Right. But I was talking to one of my friends, she’s a showgirl here in Vegas, and she said something about how it seems like it’s a lot worse with men. That we think because we only have to deal with a waist and an inseam measurement, everything we pick up with those numbers should fit. But women know that all bodies have curves in places that are different from other people’s curves, and they’re also more aware that alterations are a thing you have done if you really care about your clothes fitting. Guys do that for suits, maybe, and that’s about it. I think for athletes this just gets exaggerated, because _we’re_ exaggerated. Our thighs, our butts, our shoulders, whatever, it depends on the sport. So I figured I might as well do myself, and the world, a favor and start making a point of wearing stuff that fits properly.

**Including underwear.**

Hell yes, including underwear. Mayu, the designer my friend introduced me to, points out that our underwear is the clothing we wear the most and the closest. It’s the thing we wear the most for ourselves. Which I get—I think every player has a pair of lucky socks or briefs or something that we wear to give us a boost. This is just asking why we don’t treat every article of clothing we put on that way. What we wear should enhance _us_ , not the other way around.

**So do you advocate every man having a pair of black lace cheekies?**

If they want them, absolutely. I think they’re fun, as I’m sure anyone who’s seen that Instagram photo could tell. Those are actually my go-to pair for awards nights, just an FYI there. [wink]

But the bigger point I’ve been trying to make is that people should figure out what makes them comfortable and happy with themselves, and then not be afraid to find a way to get that thing. I’m not trying to say I think everyone should go out and get couture lingerie—I just go for broke in this, like everything else in my life—I just want people to know they don’t have to be uncomfortable with themselves for the sake of fashion.

**Now that you’ve had a chance to get that message out, will we still be able to look forward to more underwear shots on your Instagram account?**

Of course! Gotta give the people what they want.

*

See below for links and addresses of stores that take made-to-measure clothing orders to suit a range of budgets. Turn to page 25 for a guide to finding the right tailor for all your alteration needs.

**Author's Note:**

> -If you want to know more about Mayu, her shop, and her mentor, you should definitely watch the Netflix/Fuji TV show Atelier, because it's great. I initially read the prompt for this story and went, "Uh...," but then my brain started pulling details from that show, and here we are.
> 
> -Also, I decided Kent is friends with a bunch of performers from various shows in Vegas, because they all have weird rehearsal and practice schedules and are available to hang out at random times. Does this mean Kent has finally succeeded in his dream of hooking up with a Cirque performer? You decide. Perhaps his new lingerie collection will help.
> 
> -ETA: Illustration of Kent's July 4th Instagram shot can be found [here](http://rhysiana.tumblr.com/post/147307315193/let-me-slip-into-something-more-comfortable)!


End file.
